


What Is This Feeling?

by smellslikecitrus



Series: Hamilton Memes [13]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Funny, One Shot, Song - Freeform, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, What is this feeling, Wicked - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:00:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11569872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smellslikecitrus/pseuds/smellslikecitrus
Summary: Jefferson and Hamilton loathe each other.





	What Is This Feeling?

Thomas was hand writing his letter to his parents one summer during a camp for “exceptionally bright and inquisitive” teens. He wouldn't have been in a mood before he wrote the letter, except his cabin mate had been driving him up a wall. 

“Dearest, darlingest momsie and popsicle...” he muttered out loud as he wrote, and shot a look over his shoulder and glared at the scrawny boy behind him, his mutually self-proclaimed Public Enemy Number One. 

“My dear mother,” he heard his PE#1 say under his breath. Pfff. Just because Thomas was extravagant with his words didn't mean that Hamilton needed to be extra-concise to show him up.

“There’s been some confusion over rooming here at King’s Camp.” Thomas suspected the other boy was writing the same thing. 

“But of course I'll care for James,” Alexander wrote about his brother to his Mom, his back to his PE#1, the infamous Thomas Jefferson. 

“But of course, I’ll rise above it,” wrote Jefferson smugly. 

Then they both wrote, “for I know that’s how you’d want me to respond.” For all their disagreements, the two were very similar. “Yes, there’s been some confusion, for you see, my roommate is…”

Thomas wrote, his hand cramping a bit, “unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe.”

Alex just put, “a douche.”

Thomas heard him mutter that last part and stood suddenly, his chair tipping back and almost falling, and slowly turned to face Hamilton, “what is this feeling, so sudden and new?”

Alex quickly pushed back his own chair and climbed on top of it as, due to his short stature, he was unable to meet the challenge of height difference, “I felt the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Thomas put down his pen, “my pulse is rushing.”

Alex gathered his shoulder-length hair into a bun with quick expertise, “my head is reeling.”

Thomas continued, “my face is flushing…”

“What is this feeling, fervid as a flame? Does it have a name?” They both turned back around to their seats, unwilling to look at each other as they each wrote down the feeling, muttering, “yes, yes… loathing! Unadulterated loathing!”

Alex whipped back around, “for your face!”

Thomas, not to be outdone, did the same, “your voice!”

“Your clothing!” Alex gestured at Thomas’ pajamas, which for some reason were purple with whales all over them. 

They looked at each other with disgust, and turned back to writing, “let's just say- I loathe it all! Every little trait however small! Makes my very flesh begin to crawl… with simple utter loathing!” If they had looked at each other’s letters, they would have realized that they had written essentially the same thing.

Alex pondered the feeling in his letter, “there's a strange exhilaration in such total detestation. It's so pure, so strong!”

Thomas unwittingly echoed the statement, and added, “thought I do admit it came on fast, still, I do believe that it can last. And I will be loathing him—”

Alex wrote rapidly, getting his thoughts down with a quick jot of his pen, “—loathing him my whole life long!”

They put down their pens, putting their letters in the envelopes, and went to bed in mutual silence. 

The next day, as they were heading to the communal breakfast, they were stopped by some other campers, namely James Madison, Charles Lee, Sammy Seabury, and James Monroe. Charles Lee was only in the camp because of his father’s position in government, and Sammy was only in because his step dad was George King himself. 

Alex shrunk into himself, trying to be less of a target for the mostly bigger boys. But since he trailed behind Thomas a few good paces, they didn't seem to pay any attention to them. 

They approached Thomas, and then crowded around him, asking about his roommate situation, then supporting him. Loudly. 

“Dear Thomas, you are just too good!” exclaimed Charles Lee mockingly. He continued, “how do you stand him, I don't think I could!” At this, Alex snorted quietly. He could verbally take down Lee in seconds. 

“He’s a terror, he's a tartar! We don't mean to show bias, but Jefferson, you're a martyr!” Thomas preened in the attention that Sammy showered him with. 

“Well, these things are sent to try us,” said Thomas reasonably, and Alex saw red. This stupid asshat thought he was better Alex?! _Oh, he’s gonna get what’s coming to him_! Thought Alex angrily. He decided he would… confront Thomas about his hatred for him. 

James Monroe was speaking as he ran up to them, “poor Jefferson, forced to reside with someone so disgusticified! We just want to tell you, we’re all on your side!”

Alex ran up, his face red, thinking, _what is this, the rhyming show? You get zero points_. He told the group as much. Then, he zoned in on Jefferson, the sheer fire in his eyes making the tall boy take an involuntary step back. 

“What is this feeling, so sudden and new, I felt the moment I laid eyes on you? My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling, oh, what is this feeling?” The small group around Jefferson took a few steps back to marvel at the small teen’s rhyming power. 

They were surprised when Thomas abruptly joined in, “does it have a name?” he sneered. 

“Yes…” they said together, “ahhhh… LOATHING.”

There was a moment’s pause before Thomas jumped in, “there's a strange exhilaration in such total detestation, it's so pure, so strong!”

Alex took it, “though I do admit it came on fast, still I do believe that it can last, and I will be loathing you forever—”

Thomas took it back, “loathing, truly, deeply, loathing—”

“My whole life long!” They shouted together, Thomas’ eyes squeezed shut at the force, which gave Alex a few seconds to slip behind him and yell, “BOO!”

Thomas gave a start and a girlish shriek. Alex started laughing, and he walked away from the circle to breakfast, secure in the notion that he had a new life enemy. 

James Madison was the only one to speak up after the little spat, and all he said was, quietly, “that was epic.” Then he ran to catch up with Alex to make a new friend in the fiery boy. 

The rest of the time of the camp was a little more mellow, with both boys usually in their cabin, ignoring each other and writing essays. 

James Madison was the only one mutually allowed in.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoop. Thanks for reading!!
> 
> If you have a suggestion or request, do not hesitate to comment:)


End file.
